


Innuendos

by FromAnonymousToZ



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: Gossip, Idle Pottsfeilders are the devil's play things, Innuendos but not really, M/M, The Pottsfeilders are not nearly as subtle as they think they are, Then actual innuendos, inuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 11:43:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromAnonymousToZ/pseuds/FromAnonymousToZ
Summary: “What exactly do you think they do in there?” Flagsman Brown says pushing the brim of his hat up as he gazes at the slowly shutting door of the barn.“What do you mean dearie?” Miss Clara asks as she empties her buckets.“When the two of them go off galivanting in the woods at odd hours and get behind closed doors in Enoch’s barn.” The man says as he gazes thoughtfully at the barn.





	Innuendos

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I haven't published an Enoch x The Beast in a while, and we can't have that!

“What exactly do you think they do in there?” Flagsman Brown says pushing the brim of his hat up as he gazes at the slowly shutting door of the barn. 

“What do you mean dearie?” Miss Clara asks as she empties her buckets.

“When the two of them go off galivanting in the woods at odd hours and get behind closed doors in Enoch’s barn.” The man says as he gazes thoughtfully at the barn.

“Chatting I suppose. They do spend so much time apart. You know Enoch doesn't confide in us as much as he assures us after all. He’s so lonely.” Ms. Elizabeth pitches in. “It’s good for him, to have one of his own I mean.”

“Chatting?” Mr. Owen says incredulously. “You think they go and chat? With the torch they carry for one another I wouldn't be surprised if they were doing their own version of the horizontal tango.” The others of the peaceful dead titter, Mr. Owen has always been far blunter than the rest of them. 

“Now don't be so crass Mr. Owen, I wove most of Enoch with my own boney hands, and I know for a fact there isn't anything there equipped for that nonsense.” Mr. Owen scoffed at Mr. Aspen’s retort.

“And good Mr. Hope is smooth down under, Mr. Aspen, I am not saying they do the song and dance the way we do, merely that they have their own way of going about it. Enoch’s tendrils must be good for something of the sort.”

“I don't believe a word of it.”

“He’s a living thing, surely he must have needs. And Mr. Hope is quite the impressive creature. Strong antlers, a sign of virility, you know.”

“I think perhaps they sing.” Ms. Lulilly said with a note of finality effectively cutting off Mr. Owen’s musings. 

“Sing? Darling don’t be daft, if they were singing we’d hear it.” Her husband Mr. Bleak says with an odd look on his face.

“Not sing as they do normally,” She defends her claim. “Sing to each other, in a more…” She searches for the word. “Intimate way.”

“Perhaps they dance then.” Ms. Elizabeth says again. “Dance with one another, Mr. Hope always seems so reluctant to dance when he does attend our festivals, and Enoch won't ever properly dance with us. But perhaps together...” She trails off a dreamy tone in her voice. 

“One thing we can certainly all agree on is Mr. Hope is good for Enoch. Very good.” Mr. Wilbur says in a slow drawl and begins to turn back to his work. 

“Ah, but what do you think they do in there by themselves.” Flagsman Brown says once more, his tone reverent. “What I wouldn't give to find out.”

“I suppose we could go find out.”

“I don't think it’s our business to go poking around in Enoch’s affairs.” Ms. Clara says shortly her boney fingers fretting the hay between them. 

“Oh I don't think listening in on their conversation would do anyone any harm.” Mr. Bleak said and after a long moment, like tittering barn mice, they crept round to Enoch’s barn and pressed their pumpkins to the wood.

“Bah, I can’t hear a thing.” Mr. Aspen says and promptly takes off his pumpkin and presses a bony skull against the wood, finally yielding some results. 

“How shall we go about this then neighbor?” Enoch’s voice was muffled. 

“I shall simply deal with it myself.” Mr. Hope’s resounding voice is truly something to behold even through the thick wood.

“Are you sure you wouldn't like my assistance Hope Eater?” Ms. Elizabeth looks triumphant but her look falls to one of horror when Mr. Hope’s voice snaps suddenly sharp.

“Keep those filthy streamers away from me lord of plenty.” A pause before his voice comes softer but still sharp. “I’d rather you not know my inner workings.” 

“Hope Eater it would not trouble me so to assist you, I cannot see why you are so opposed to this. I have known your body in other ways, this will simply be one more.”

“This is different Enoch. This is not some dance or casual draping of fabric this is inside me.” 

“I have been inside you before Hope Eater.”

“Being inside my lantern is a far cry from this.”

“Yes, yes, but won't you just let me help you.” Enoch’s tone is pleading and a long moment of silence stretches out before Mr. Hope finally replies.

“Fine.”

“Wonderful!” The Pottsfeilders can practically hear the way Enoch’s fore feelers clasp together in a bizarre mimicry of mortal hands. There is a long moment where only the creak of wood and the rasp of corn silk tendrils. “This would be far easier if you would stop squirming,” Enoch says finally.

Mr. Hope only makes a displeased hissing sound in response.

“Do you mind if I hold you down neighbor?”

“Do what you want.” Mr. Hope huffs. Suddenly there's a thud as if something heavy had just been pulled, by its wrists, or it’s antlers for that matter, against the door of the barn making the eavesdroppers jump in surprise. Ms. Clara clasps her bony hands over her mouth.

“Don't touch my antlers.” Mr. Hope snapped. 

“Oh yes they are dreadfully sensitive aren't they, my apologies Hope Eater, I shall find another way to hold you still.” After a short moment, Mr. Hope makes an angered noise and Enoch laughs in response. 

“Would you prefer the antlers now?”

“This is humiliating.”

Enoch hummed a laugh in response. 

“Tha-” The sound is choked and half-formed before suddenly “Enoch! OUT! OUT! OUT!” Mr. Hope barks and heavy breathing sounds fill the air along with the nervous fraying of streamers. 

“Hope Eater are you alright?” Enoch asks finally and Mr. Hope gives a soft sound before speaking.

“You merely startled me. I am prepared at this time.” This time the only sound that comes from Mr. Hope is a soft “Ngh.” 

There are few long moments before Mr. Hope makes a noise again and Enoch replies.

“It surely can’t be that deep yet can it?”

“It’s deeper than you think lord of the dead.” Enoch hummed brightly in response.

“Then I shall go deeper still.” The sounds inside the barn are minimal and suddenly Mr. Hope lets out a cry.

“There!” There is a great sound of struggle and panting on the other side of the door and suddenly everything goes quiet followed by a soft sigh from both parties. The Pottsfeilders glanced at each other, dawning horror on their faces as they realized what they had just witnessed. 

An intimate joining of two eldritch. Each with a bony blush they scatter to find somewhere else to be and somewhere to look inconspicuous. Each itching in their bones to tell someone. 

Within the barn, Enoch holds the wriggling garter snake in his tendrils.

“It bit me.” The Beast says incredulously feeling at the hold in him that had been previously occupied by one of Enoch’s tendrils and, one very irritated garter snake. 

“You’re hurt?” Enoch’s great head snaps up and his tone worries in the air. Cinnamon distress permeates the air as the Beast waves off his concern with a lofty hand.

“Lord of Plenty I am wood within and without, it was merely a surprise.” Enoch hummed in response, turning his attention back to the little snake thrashing valiantly in his grip.

“Dreadful little things aren't they.” He intones finally. As the thing levels eyes as black and angry as coal.

“You’re one to talk. You didn't just have one inside you.” The Beast huffs. 

“Yes, I suppose there’s that.” Enoch purrs finally as he sets the little snake upon the ground where it promptly makes for a knothole in the wood and slips into the night. 

The Beast stands by the door adjusting his furs which have bristled steadily over the course of the past few minutes. He looks rather like a pincushion Enoch thinks but keeps the thought to himself, knowing the Beast would not find it nearly as humorous as he did. 

“I believe we gave some of my Pottsfeilders the wrong impression.” The Beast hums in response, questioning, as he makes sure his lantern is adjusted and his furs smoothed down. “I rather think they are under the impression we’ve been up to some rather…” One idle tendril gestures airily as if placing the word. “Raunchous behavior.”

The Beast looks at him questioningly and Enoch looks black with an unchanging fabric face but the Beast merely scoffs after a long moment. 

“Let them think that then.” Enoch’s fabric face contorts in surprise. 

“Oh?” He says questioningly, his scent shifting into something dark and possessive like caramel burning into something darker. The Beast scoffs again and shrugs as he turns to brush idle hay from his furs. 

“It is not so different from what we have done before.” Enoch worries two tendrils together.

“I suppose so, but they seem to think we have a very…” He lingers for a long moment. “Human way of going about it.”

The Beast scoffs sharply, what is almost a sneer rises in his voice.

“The day you do anything by human measures is the day my forest thaws.” Enoch hums in response, still fretting idly. 

“Do say you’ll stay and allow me to make up for this inconvenience,” Enoch says finally and the Beast grunts in a way that is neither confirmation nor protest. A tendril slithers around the Beast’s neck, the ribbon looping around his antler and caressing in a teasing manner. 

“I could do it over, the proper, non-human way. Make it up to you. So to speak.” After a long moment that seems to draw out for an eternity, the Beast speaks. 

“Perhaps I could be tempted to stay.”


End file.
